It’s the most important meal of the day. I make it diligently for my family every morning, Monday through Friday while I force myself to eat some cereal or at least a yogurt. That way I don’t power gorge an entire bag of Doritos at 11:00 a.m. 

Still, I’m a lunch & dinner kind of gal, aside from bacon that is, and I’m not a real fan of breakfast foods. So, what the heck is it about the Saturday morning feast that changes the whole paradigm?

Late nights and tight tummies can certainly be a factor, but for the most part, Saturday morning breakfast is a way to hit the brakes so I don’t drop directly into work mode. When you own your own business, that work ethic thing chases you down 24/7.  Right now, I allow myself one day off per week, and I find that if I begin that day with someone else making me breakfast AND cleaning it up, things tend to remain at a very low simmer. As I sit with my family and linger over another cup of coffee, trade sections of the paper, and listen to my daughters’ vibrant chatter; I allow myself to relax.

I’ve lived a lot of places and every place had that perfect breakfast joint. In Singapore, it was the hawker center at the bottom of the street with warm BBQ’d buns and hot chicken soup. Dallas had a little diner that served the best chicken fried steak with homemade gravy and biscuits while in Seattle was Hector’s in Kirkland a place that converted from the Friday night bar to the Saturday breakfast joint. It was convenient because I needed to stop by and pick up my purse anyway.  Here in Arizona, I’ve gone for variety and adventure. 

We’ve got our usuals which include the Deer Valley Airport (7th Avenue and Deer Valley) with all those cool little Pipers and Cessna’s doing touch-and-goes for my entertainement while I dine down on some tasty huevos rancheros.  We also really like Hot Bagels & Deli off of 59th Ave. and Behrend where the bread is made fresh every morning and comes with some of the best whipped cream cheese in town. They also do bagel sandwiches to die for on a flat top no less!

So, this week we were trying to decide on a good joint to hit, took that leap of faith called Yelp, and found our new favorite joint: Ronnie’s Café. 

It’s a tiny place on the SW corner of 43rd Ave. and Cactus. The wobbly sign by the road touted steak and eggs for $5.99. There was a line out the door (always a good sign), and I peeked my head in to see what’s what.

People are happily waiting for a table and loads of brick-a-brack covers the walls. The gal behind the counter puts the toast down while the cashier addresses the person on the phone as “honey” and gently tells her to head about 90 blocks west and 12 blocks north to find the joint.

We were seated, ordered beverages and asked our waitress, “What’s good.”

“All of it, of course,” but she wholeheartedly pushes those steak and eggs and the strawberry French toast. The table is dressed in flowery oil cloth and you can purchase hand painted coffee cups off the wall for $3.25. 

Sammie, ever the carnivore, gets the steak with “eggs lookin’ right at ya.” Dave orders a Greek Omelet. And for me, it’s a bowl of chili with onions and cheese, two eggs over easy and a side of biscuits. Once the plates are taken away, we linger over another cup of coffee, talk about the news and (get this) listen to each other. 

The food was good and well worth the wait and taking the chance on a new place. Patrons come and go. Entire families move 3 or 4 tables together and don’t require menus. Babies cry and giggle. “Order Up” is heard from the counter, and a young lady and her boyfriend sit down near us and talk about the long drive from across town. 

Ronnie’s Café, it’s a new Lee family favorite.  Ain’t nothin’ like a good breakfast joint.